Beautiful
by all.out.carby
Summary: Changed my mind. Another chapter, more to come. Chapter 2: The Second Year
1. The First Year

I'm taking a break from my other fics and am going to be posting a bunch of stand-alones for a while. *lol* Can't say when I'll get to the others, but I have to say that one of them is nearly done.  
  
  
--  
  
"Abby?"  
  
I pull out from the linen closet in the hallway to see him smiling in the doorway. My husband, John Carter. I smile back.  
  
After a year, he's still so cute. He wears that white shirt and jeans. I love him like that. So raw and natural. I tell him it all the time. He tells me I'm beautiful. But, in reality, he's the most beautiful man I know. Inside and out.  
  
"Hey," I say casually as he moves toward me. He encircles his arms around me with such swift grace. His lips meet mine. Heaven. Bliss. My hands move, without my noticing, around his neck. Our smiles are completely aware as we continue our sweet ascent through this one kiss. Its wonderful. Its beautiful. The way we connect.  
  
His hand caresses my back so lightly, I wonder if its really there. I reach up and twist a strand of hair between two fingers casually. I melt as his other hand caresses my thigh warmly. I love these moments.   
  
His hands are on my waist now, his thumbs rubbing it softly. I smile shyly and stare up into his eyes with my forehead pressed against his. He barely moved his head from mine and kissed my nose. I giggle. Something I've learned to do with him. He giggles in reciprocation. For an instant, we share that quiet giggle. Standing against the closet door.   
  
He brushes a strand of hair away from my face. I'll never tell him, but I love when he does that. Its perfect. Its makes me feel as though we were locked in a never-ending romance story. In a way, I already was.   
  
For a minute more, we keep our foreheads together and watch the other blink. Watching so lovingly. I love this. I love him.  
  
His body is still against mine, but he's holding onto me tightly. And together, we stand against that door. Still. My hand edges to his back where I gently take hold of the cloth. That white shirt.  
  
I kiss him again. A playful kiss. Reaching up and pecking him on the lips. Again, something I've learned from him. To be so childish at times just for fun. He kisses me back immediately. We continue this adorable act for another thirty seconds.  
  
He leaves his position from in front of me, and stands close next to me against that door. He takes my hand, and tilts his head to the side. It meets mine, and as we stand there with our hands together in at the top, we watch our hands instinctively begin to intertwine.  
  
He takes my hand again and tenderly rubs a thumb over my knuckles. I watch his process that I've grown to love. I allow him to do it all to me. He taught me how to love. More than before.  
  
He sighs with a turn of his head. He comes close to my face. With our faces inches apart, I think we're going to kiss.  
  
Knowing John Carter, we won't, because he wants to tease me. I know he does. He has that glint in his eye and he knows I notice that. My smile becomes even wider. I try to stifle it. I can imagine how odd I look. How my face must be twisted into a funnily created grin.  
  
He laughs at my expression. A laugh. My heart skips as always and I shiver. I laugh at my own embarrassment and look back up at him. He's laughing too.  
  
I reach up and kiss him softly. I've taken him by surprise, but it was necessary. With our eyes closed and lips still dancing in sync, we take the other's hand and lead ourselves to the kitchen. He leads me more than I lead him, and when he parts I open my eyes. I want to protest at that loss of his lips, but I see the scene he shows me.  
  
Candles. Everywhere. The food is so neatly arranged and everything is, well, perfect. I look to John. He's blushing vividly. He's smiling at his own work, nervous for my approval. Now he's attempting to suffocate his own smile. I'm not fooled.  
  
We share that one expression. That smile.  
  
He takes my hand and I let my smile spread further across my face. He leads me to the table and pulls a chair out for me. I look back up at him and I shake my head happily.  
  
The plates are covered. I wonder why.  
  
"What are you hiding?" I ask, motioning toward the cover.  
  
He shakes his head excitedly. "Not yet."  
  
I am still smiling. I sit back in the chair and wait for him to join me. He sits down next to me. I remember telling him that. I told him that its more romantic if you sit next to someone rather than across from someone.  
  
He had agreed.  
  
He nods, allowing me to reveal my plate. I take the cover off.  
  
"Oh," I laugh. I put a hand over my eyes and he laughs, too. It was the same thing we'd had that first time we'd met. Those hot fudge sundaes from Doc Magoo's.  
  
"John," I laughed.  
  
"You don't like it?" he asks.  
  
"No!" I cry. My laughter eases. "I love it. I can't believe you did this." I move over to him and put a soft hand on his neck. I kiss him lovingly.  
  
"Really?"  
  
I stutter on pure air, thinking of what to say. I sigh and shake my head again. "I love you. So much."   
  
He kisses me. "Happy anniversary."  
  
I smile.  
  
He's so beautiful.  
  
  
--  
  
  
My first ever stand-alone. Let me know what you think. 


	2. The Second Year

Hee. Guess this wasn't a stand-alone after all.   
  
What can I say? I got bored. And I just ended a thirty-chapter story. I needed something to do.  
  
  
--  
  
  
"John?" I look around. He's nowhere in sight.   
  
Two years now, and he still does this to me. Still.  
  
Okay, in all honesty, I know I say that I hate the games he plays. And, sometimes I kind of do. But this one is different. The one where he pretends he's not here. It's about the oldest game on the planet and it's certainly not very creative. That's the part I hate. Because then I have a feeling he's watching me stand around like an idiot from some secret hiding place. And I'm the one looking for him, around the house while he just sits and watches me.  
  
That's the part that drives me insane.  
  
But there's still an upside to this "game." The part where he comes out from wherever and hugs me. He doesn't act so extremely immature and hide under the bed, or behind the sofa. In fact, he just walks around the corner casually and says -   
  
"What?"  
  
I laugh. That's the part I'm talking about. He hugs me tightly and I wriggle into his hold deeper, hoping that he'll hold me just forever. I still love the way we manage to stay like this. How many married couples are still this in love? It sounds conceited, doesn't it? But, it's true. I swear it's true.  
  
His hands are warm around my waist as he stands behind me and sighs. I smile, my eyes slowly closing as his heat absorbs me silently. I reach up and unwrap his arms from my torso, as I open my eyes again to meet his. I hold his hands when I turn around and he kisses me.  
  
"I hate when you do that," I whisper against his mouth. He initiates another kiss and I gladly follow.  
  
"No you don't," he chuckles quietly. His hands wrap around my fingers and I laugh at his response.  
  
I shrug then and fall against him. He breathes against my hair and kisses it three times. Another thing I've enjoyed coming from him. I play with the tail of his hair as he caresses my thighs. He and I both know that one word changes the mood between us.   
  
So we have to speak.  
  
"Did you," he begins, gesturing with his hands, darting toward another room, "you know - "  
  
I nod anxiously, my face oddly changing into a different smile. "Yeah. I did."  
  
He nods, so I follow, unsure of what else I am supposed to do. We look at each other, focusing on the other's eyes, until he puts out a hand for me to take. I smile wearily and proudly put my hand in his. I walk to the couch with him as he leads me. He sits down first, so I stand for a while and join him on the cushions.   
  
"I'm so tired," I say, sliding slightly on the couch so I lay against his body. He shelters my shoulders with another warm arm. We have fallen asleep a million times in this same position. It's wonderful. And it's not that bad. Couches seem more comfortable if you're in your husband's arms anyway. Especially my husband.  
  
"Me, too," he says. "Everyone missed you at work today."  
  
"I'm sure," I laugh as he begins to soothe my mass of auburn hair again. Those unruly curls that I've made up every morning for the last week. It's just easier that way.  
  
"My little nurse manager."  
  
"Ugh," I giggle. "Don't even remind me." I spot his hand lying in his lap and move it to his knee. His hand is much bigger than mine, I've noticed. His fingers are more rough, more manly as the story goes, and I can't help but find myself playing with them at least once a day.  
  
He kisses my temples and moves back to watching me and his hand. "Normally people are happy about promotions."  
  
I shrug. "It's different when you're a nurse. Doctor's take pride in being the attending resident, but me as a nurse manager? I'm just not for that ick responsibility."  
  
"Ick responsibility?"  
  
I nod comically and snuggle even closer to him.  
  
He shrugs. "As long as I'm at County, there won't be much of an attending position open for me."  
  
"I'm sure there will be one day."  
  
He looks down at me and kisses me again. I leave his hand alone, his fingers dropping from being laced through mine and I hook my arms around his neck. He eases me down onto the couch and nibbles on my neck. I murmur in pure delight and my eyes close again.  
  
"Hmm?" he asks against me, mistaking my mumbles for a question. I wave my hand, scaring away any more noise between us. He nods and continues to assault my skin gently with soft lips. I can't focus on anything. Just his skin making contact with mine. How is it that its warm, and cold in here at the same time? I shake it off and realize that my eyes are still shut. I don't let them open for another full minute.  
  
"How long have we been sitting here?" he asks, his voice muffled in my hair.  
  
I shrug loosely. "I don't know." I barely want to talk right now.  
  
He pulls away slightly, kissing my jaw numerous times. I laugh breathlessly and tug at the bottom of his shirt. I slip my hands under it and run them over his back.  
  
"We aren't really going to do this here are we?" he asks between kisses.  
  
"No, of course not." I manage to pick myself up slightly and kiss him back for once. He chuckles to himself and tells me he loves me. I repeat this to him and he kisses me once more.  
  
"Go," he says. It's simple, but still a shiver ensues.  
  
"Right now?"  
  
He nods. "You go first, and - "  
  
I shake my head nervously and giggle forwardly. "You first."  
  
He starts to say something, but changes his mind. He nods, and stands. I am left there lying on the couch after another quick kiss, biting my thumb. I try not to think about anything for a second, to see if I possibly calm down.  
  
I notice a piece of plastic wrapping on the ground and move to pick it up. Anything to distract me from thinking right now. After it's thrown away, I search the room for more mess or garbage. I find nothing.  
  
The door opens and I whip around to see him walking toward me with a frown. I'm aware that I was wearing a smile myself, but it's dropped to a frown as well upon seeing his. I look at him and ask him what it is.  
  
He stutters, "Um," and points to the door before sitting back down on the couch to watch television. I stare at him, wondering what he is doing, though I know what he saw. I feel the frown deeply printed into my mind now and go to the bathroom.   
  
"Maybe next time" flashes through my mind. We've said it to each other enough. We thought perhaps it would be our turn this time. We've only been trying for a couple of months, though. Sadly, though, I walk to the bathroom and reach for the piece on the counter, and stop in my tracks when I come in sight of it.  
  
I don't waste time. I run out of the bathroom leaving everything as it is in the bathroom. Surprisedly, I meet John standing in the hallway with a giant smile spread across his face. I smirk and leap into his arms.   
  
"We're having a baby," he whispers.  
  
"That wasn't funny," I say within our hug. I doubt he even heard me. I don't care. I can't feel the ground right now. I probably *am* floating.  
  
"We're having a baby," he repeats.  
  
I look up at him. "Yeah."  
  
"Happy anniversary," he says, pushing a strand of hair away from my eyes. I cup his face in my hands and smile brilliantly, as he reaches down to kiss me again.  
  
  
--  
  
  
There's another result of boredom.  
  
mandy 


	3. The Third Year

His eyes are intent, analyzing mine tenderly.  
  
I'm curled up at the end of our bed, his body stretched out toward me. Two soft, clothed feet stand in front of my eyes, sweetly showcasing a few dancing toes. I angle my head to the side, picking at the material and smiling to myself.  
  
"It's odd," he says clasping his hands together behind his head, "that my feet amuse you."  
  
"Why do you think that is?" I say, tossing my playful spirit to him. My fingers meet the sole of his foot, massaging it lightly.  
  
"Because they're that damn cute."  
  
I shrug.  
  
"Yeah, yeah," he teases, fetching one of the throw pillows next to him and throwing it toward me.  
  
I put my arms up in blocking protest, catching the pillow as he smiles at me. I return my own goofy grin and rest my head on the pillow. Gazing up at the ceiling, I blink twice for no reason at all.  
  
I turn to the side, making moves subtle, and take his feet. Propping them on top of my stomach, I continue my fancy with them. Rubbing the inside lovingly with one of my arms over his legs.  
  
"Oh," he says suddenly, eyes sealed peacefully. "Weaver said we can take next Tuesday off."  
  
"Oh, good," I reply, still focused on the job in front of me. I sigh, turn on my side. "I'm so happy for you."  
  
He laughs and pulls his arms apart to invite me. I grin and crawl into his hug, warm and loving. Like no other; that's the way he is. He cuddles into me, and I gladly counter his actions, nuzzling my nose deep into his shirt.  
  
With a dozen kisses to my forehead, I emit a dozen giggles.  
  
His fingers comb through my morning heap of hair, tendrils coming between each of his digits. I can feel his face breathe into my hair again and again. I love it.  
  
"How do you feel?"  
  
He shrugs into me. "I don't know."  
  
"You've wanted this attending position for how long," I say in a quiet voice. My eyes fall on his. "You've been worthy of it for the longest time. She offers it to you now and you don't know how you feel?" I laugh.  
  
His shoulders shift again and he holds me tighter. I sense what he's feeling now, and my face becomes softer. I hold me fingers against his chest, palms lingering and let my face escape between them. His own head is lost in my neck, murmuring kisses here and there.  
  
He pulls away, and searches for me. I smile and give him a sweet kiss, filled with all the heart I have for him. He turns to the side to survey the figure beside him, the one I can't see.  
  
I rest my chin comfortably on his chest to see her.  
  
"See that smile?" he asks, hands lost in my hair.  
  
I slide into him. "Yeah."  
  
"She has our sarcasm."  
  
We both chuckle at his comment, then I twist my head to further my view. "It's quite a trait."  
  
"Hereditary, I guess."  
  
"Like a whole sarcastic gene?"  
  
He nods, and sighs with his own mix of laughter. "Scathing."  
  
"Not *scathing.*" I lazily slap his chest and allow my hand to fall again. "Witty. Cutting."  
  
"You're flattering yourself on purpose."  
  
My grin spreads a little more, my chin and cheeks feeling the familiar sensation. He rubs his hands over the infant's stomach, her fists fighting to grab his attention.  
  
I sneeze. Again. "Where's the box of Kleenex?"  
  
He reaches over my head to the dresser and brings it to me. I nod a thank you his way and take a few samples. Gratefully, I blow my nose.  
  
"Attractive, huh?" I joke.  
  
"Oh, yeah," he says as he takes his own. His voice has the common stuffy- nose sound to it, as I'm sure mine does. "Adorable."  
  
We both toss the tissues for a wastebasket, and miss. We both turn our heads away and fix them on our daughter once more.  
  
"How did she get out of this?"  
  
I shrug. "Aren't adults supposed to be more immune to this kind of stuff?"  
  
He laughs.  
  
The baby giggles and we're quiet again. Motionless in every sense, only the gentle rising of our bodies with every breath breaking the bare serenity of the room.  
  
"Kleenex, please?"  
  
"Yep," I offer, reaching for our savior this morning. "Here."  
  
We both take our share again.  
  
He pulls me closer to him, one steady arm wrapped around my body. Limp with all the weariness of the daylight, and relaxed with every sense of him, I smile.  
  
"Happy anniversary," I laugh.  
  
"Best yet."  
  
--  
  
Don't know why, but sadly all of my fics have been children of insomnia lately. This one I wrote it on the wall to preserve the idea when the computer wasn't working.  
  
Yet Viki still convinces me that I'm *not* weird. ;)  
  
manda 


End file.
